Someone to run with
by cedari
Summary: She runs through the forest, following the boy that runs in front of her. She needs to know why he ran away when the Death Eaters came, as well as why he kissed her that day in the library. A story of What Ifs set during 6th year and then 10 years later.
1. Chapter 1

**SOMEONE TO RUN WITH **

_Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work._

_Authors Note: Massive thanks to my beta Amethyst18! _

**PART 1: ****CHASING (Hermione)**

I'm running.

Fast and hard.

My legs flying beneath me, hitting the ground in determined steps. My breath burning the walls of my throat as it rises from my heated lungs to my open mouth. The brambles that cover the floor of the forest slash at my bare skin, as I disturb them from their set positions. The pin pricks of a million thorns piercing into my flesh barely register in my mind, for there is no room for such insignificant emotions when my brain is clouded by the thought of him.

The heat of his gaze.

The taste of his lips.

The feel of his fingertips tracing up and down my neck.

It's getting harder to see now. Heavy, grey smoke is starting to make its way into the forest, weaving in between the exotic flowers and the more fleshy plants, but more importantly obscuring my vision. I have to reach out, my arms held out in front of me, making sure there is nothing out there I can collide with, while at the same time pulling stray branches out of the way.

A loud bang temporarily halts me. I turn round and am assaulted by a cloud carrying bits of grit – remnants of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, a school I love so dearly. The school that instead of helping to defend I am running away from. I sacrifice a second of my time to grieve for the downfall of the magnificent institution before once again commencing my pursuit of him.

Tears from the bits of stone that hit my eyes means that my sight is now reduced to even more useless levels. Hearing seems to be my only aid, but it's difficult to hear his rapid footsteps with the explosion of spells hitting against each other and the screams of victims flooding my ears.

Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump.

Heavy boots hitting the soil are my only clue.

My heart is on the verge of bursting. I've never enjoyed exercise, sitting in the library surrounded by my favourite books was more my scene. I've always had a soft spot for that place, the smell of ancient manuscripts and the noise of creaking chairs, the room where we shared our first and only kiss.

I've asked myself, how can one kiss make me desert my friends and family?

But it was one of those kisses, a moment so amazing it's hard to describe in words. Yet it makes me tingle uncontrollably when I even think about it, a touch that clears my mind of every thought and memory, except the one that reminds me that my lips are against his. Something so perfect, that I want to have it again and again although that makes me a thoroughly selfish person.

That's how I felt that summer's day in the library. That's why I'm not with my friends helping to defend Hogwarts from the power hungry Death Eaters. That's why I running blind in the Forbidden Forest, promising myself I will keep chasing him until I find him.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

_Thanks for reading cedari x_


	2. Searching

**SOMEONE TO RUN WITH **

_Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work._

_Authors Note: Massive thanks to my beta Amethyst18! _

**Part 2:**** SEARCHING (Hermione)**

They've stopped.

The footsteps they've stopped.

He's stopped.

My heart skips a beat and my gut contracts as a wave of nervousness crashes through me. He must be near. Anxious sweat starts to seep from the flesh of my palms, and my mind starts to race. It suddenly hits me, the utter stupidity of this idiotic quest of mine. What did I think that he was going to do, turn round and confess his undying love for me?

The urge to run back to Hogwarts, to everything I know, consumes me and my feet start to step backwards.

It was only one kiss.

One stupid kiss.

Not the whole world.

But why does it feel like he had gift wrapped the whole galaxy for me and presented it to me on bended knee? It was no way as dramatic as that, or as romantic. It was hurried, clumsy and yet...

"_Why do you bother with it, Granger?"_

"_Bother with what?"_

"_Work. You know a war is coming."_

"_Just go away, Malfoy."_

"_No."_

"_Hey! Give me back that book."_

"_How's... 'Runes: Numbers From The Ages' going to help you against the Death Eaters?"_

"_I don't need to explain myself to you."_

_"Let go of my arm, Malfoy."_

"_Not till you tell me."_

"_Fine. It takes my mind off things. Doing something I do every day. It helps me forget that things are changing. There. Happy?"_

"_Maybe... See you tomorrow, Mudblood."_

And so it happened. Every day for three months, March to May, he would stand in front of me while I was working and then we would argue for five minutes. I didn't share any of this with Ron or Harry: quarrelling with Malfoy was nothing new, and I didn't want them involved. The topics would range from the ridiculous and petty to the serious and meaningful. As soon as the five minutes were up, he would leave and I would be left by myself wound up and angry. Then one day I said something which I thought would for once give me the final word. But...

"_You're just as scared as the rest of us."_

"_Scared? Why would I be scared? I'm not the one on the losing side."_

"_Then why do you come here every day?"_

"_To annoy you."_

"_Exactly."_

"_What?"_

"_That's what I mean. You've pissed me off for six years. Doing this is your normalcy, like when I work. It allows you to forget reality for a moment."_

"_Don't be so fucking stupid."_

"_You're just as scared as the rest of us."_

"_What do I have to be scared about?"_

"_Your future, Voldemort, your death? Could be any number of things really. But to tell you the truth, I don't really care. I've had enough of being part of your self-therapy."_

_"Ow! What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

"_What if I do something completely unexpected, does that prove to you that I'm not scared?"_

That's when it happened. When he pressed his lips against mine, hard at first and then softer. His hands had held my wrists tightly at my sides before sliding along the length of my arms, tracing a winding path from my collarbone to my neck. It was over in seconds, though we remained mere inches apart long after our lips had parted. I had never noticed his eyes before, and yet I found myself drowning in them then...

"_No. Why are you scared?"_

He left without replying. After that day he never came back to the library, he never acknowledged me in the corridor, not even bothering to throw an insult in my direction.

Perhaps it's not just the memory of the kiss that drives me, it's the puzzle. I hate not knowing the answers to something. It drives me crazy. If I get less than 135 in an exam I have to go to the Professor to find out exactly what I did wrong. It's the same thing with Malfoy. I have to know why he ran away. Why he's so scared. Harry was so sure he was a Death Eater; that he'd been conspiring all year. But then when the Death Eaters finally came he ran, his cloak flying behind him as he ran fast towards the Forbidden Forest.

So now I find myself standing still, no longer stepping back.

I can't.

I need to know.

Need to know why?

I'm not just searching for the perfect kiss, but also for an answer.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

_Thanks for reading. Reviews make me smile. _

_Cedari x_


	3. Finding

**SOMEONE TO RUN WITH **

_Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work._

_Authors Note: Massive thanks to my beta Amethyst18! _

**Chapter 3: FINDING (Hermione)**

So here I am, gingerly putting one foot in front of another, my breathing growing increasingly erratic. I can see flecks of platinum in between the dense foliage. I'm inching my way towards him, trying to avoid stepping on any twigs which would immediately give me away. I can't afford to make him aware of my presence until I am within an arm's reach of him. If I do he'll be off, his long legs taking him on a path I don't think my tired, short ones could withstand. I hold my breath as I slowly pull away the final curtain of leaves revealing myself to him. His eyes instantly widened and then narrow in suspicion as he looks around us. He obviously thinks there's somebody else with me. He doesn't believe I could be on my own.

"What are you doing here, aren't you meant to be at Hogwarts with your precious Potter and Weasley?"

The question is tinged with sarcasm and bitterness. It takes me awhile to register what he's asking and to form a reply because I am so shocked by his appearance. I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't this. Mud was splattered on his normally immaculate robes, his shoes had acquired a coating of brown grime, long gone was the high polish you could see your reflection in. On his face were lines of red – the result of colliding with too many thorny trees and his hair that was usually slicked back in uniform lines was wild.

"So... what are you doing here?"

I finally take in the question that he asks and I can practically feel the cogs in my head spinning wildly, trying desperately to churn out a half decent answer. Though for all their turning the next sentence that comes out of my head is, "I don't know."

I look at my feet in shame for I don't dare to bring further humiliation to myself by looking straight at the expression of disbelief that is no doubt gracing his features. Hermione Granger not knowing is a sight that rarely occurs and we both fall into a lapse of shocked silence. I suppose I could have told him what I told you; that I need to know why he ran away and whether our brief kiss confuses him as much as it does me, but at that moment in time those reasons seemed completely absurd. I had deserted my friends, for answers to those silly questions.

The stillness is broken by his mocking laughter, its sharpness cutting straight through my minute of embarrassment, its high tone making me angrier by the second. Even when it was he who was to be the smaller figure, the one who ran away, the coward, he always manages to twist the situation making me the person who gets laughed at. I can feel the muscles in my jaw contracting and then relaxing, spasms of infuriation. Well he wasn't going to be able to leave it like this...

"Why are you running away? What are you so scared of?"

My questions shut him up and I can't help but look smug. I catch the twitch of his right eye, a tic that I notice only happens when he gets annoyed.

"I'm not scared."

It's my turn to laugh.

"What's so funny? What is so fucking funny?"

My laughing only increases. I have to bend down now, my hands resting on my legs supporting the rest of my body. Chuckles soon transfigure into guffaws of laughter. The poor guy can't even try and be macho, the puffing out of the chest, the standing up tall, all ruined by the pouting of the lips and the flush of red anger that stains the skin of his normally pale cheeks. He just wasn't made for it.

A hard shove against my shoulder knocks me out of present state. The force is enough to knock the last breath of amusement out of me and the bruising strength behind the punch sobers me up immediately as well as making me, once again, pissed off.

"So what if I was scared. Why would I ever tell a lowly, ugly, Mudblood like you? "His lips are curled up into a cruel smirk and his eyes are like ice. He may not be macho but he's the king at insults that cut straight through to your heart. I really shouldn't be affected by that word anymore; people have been calling me that for six years, whispering it maliciously as I pass them in the corridor. But if anything the hurt it causes just gets deeper and deeper. Despite everything I have done, all my accomplishments, that single word vaporizes them into worthless air, for no matter what I do, or how hard I try, they still think I'm inferior to them. I know. I know I shouldn't care what other people think and to the outside world Hermione Granger doesn't. But it's all an act, a shield of indifference, yet like all armour there are chinks and cracks that enable damage to be done, and trust me it is. And then I retaliate in the only way I know how, to say something that is just as low.

"That, maybe, but at least I'm not a pathetic coward, who runs away the moment Daddy can't protect him."

With that said I begin to walk away. After all my effort I realise that what I had imagined would happen was just a fantasy. Malfoy was a bastard and would always be one. I didn't belong here, not with him. I should be in Hogwarts.

"I am scared."

With those words I stop dead in my tracks.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

_Thanks for reading. Reviews make me smile. _

_Cedari x_


	4. Confessing

**SOMEONE TO RUN WITH **

_Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work._

_Authors Note: Massive thanks to my beta Amethyst18! _

**Chapter 4****: CONFESSING (Draco)**

At the beginning of this year, all I could do was look at the mark that was carved deep into the skin of my left arm. I was hypnotised by it, the way it seemed to pulse with life, calling me, instructing me. It was a symbol of everything that was important to me. Mother had pleaded with me last summer, begged me.

"You're just a child Draco," she had said. "My only child."

She hadn't wanted me to receive the mark, but it had been so easy to ignore her, to shove her protests in that dark, hidden corner in my brain. She should have known it would make no difference. How could a son watch his father be disgraced, to be hauled away like a common criminal, and not do anything? My father had been my hero, an embodiment of what I wanted to become. To see him in Azkaban, to see my mother reduced to a tearful, hysterical creature made me want to scream till my lungs were sore and my throat was dry.

Throughout those confrontations with my mother, Aunt Bellatrix had sat quietly in the corner, her eyes closed, her wand twirling in her fingers and a half smile set on her lips. She knew me better than my own mother. She knew I couldn't bear the thought of going to school and being in the same room as Potter. All I could think about every second, of every day was how I wanted Potter dead. I wanted his blood on my hands and his body at my feet. Potter had taken my father away. Potter had ruined my fucking life and all I wanted to do was to make him hurt as much as I was.

So. I had knelt in front of the Dark Lord, accepting his orders and his branding without a question on my lips. I had felt like a man. My whole being had thrummed with pride and power. I had felt capable of anything.

At the start of the year, the plan had seemed so simple, so easy. I already had the vanishing cabinet at Borgin and Burkes, and all I had to do was fix the one in the Room of Requirement. Every night I was in there trying to get the stupid thing to work, with Goyle and Crabbe keeping look out. And every night I got nowhere. It had all started to go wrong. I could feel these tight, impossible knots twisting up my insides. They pulled and gripped in any which direction. I stopped eating and sleeping, food tasted like ash, and in the night the Dark Lord would come to me. He would whisper things to me, warning me, threatening me. His red eyes burned into my dreams, turning them into nightmares.

All that pride I had felt ebbed away from me, and I was reduced to something so pathetic it made me hate myself. I became desperate, so desperate for a result, for Dumbledore's death. The necklace ...desperation, the mead... desperation. I didn't care about Dumbledore, the old man had never done anything for me, all I cared about were those red eyes. Snape kept appearing round corners, his black gaze fixing on me, trying to read my mind. It took all my strength to block him out of my thoughts, my fears. I couldn't let him see how weak I was becoming. I didn't need his help I would tell myself, a Malfoy could do this. I was a Malfoy. A Malfoy. I didn't need anyone.

I started going to the library, looking for answers in the volumes of text stacked in the endless bookshelves. I kept seeing Granger. In the beginning she made it obvious that she was doing her damnest to ignore me. But maybe she had seen me one too many times and her curious looks lasted longer than they really should. The paranoia that had started to become a real part of my life reared its ugly head. What if she knew? She would tell Dumbledore and that would be it. My life would be over. Potter already seemed to be sticking his nose into where it wasn't wanted and I had this ridiculous notion of house elves following me. So I started talking to her. Throw her off the scent. The kiss, I don't know what I was thinking. It seemed a good idea at the time. The electricity that had flown through me though had scared the shit out off me. I hadn't even felt that with Pansy and I had even used a bit of tongue with her. I had scrubbed my teeth hard when I had gotten back to my dorm that night in an attempt to get the Mudblood germs out my mouth, and was satisfied when I spat blood into the sink. The fact that that was the first night for months I hadn't seen red eyes didn't bear thinking about.

In the mornings when I saw my reflection in the bathroom, I didn't see me anymore, I saw someone else, someone verging on the cusp of madness. I only needed a little push and I would be completely lost. That day when Potter found me was one of those days. Seeing his face in the mirror re ignited all the anger that had been burning in me since that summer. I had genuinely wanted to kill him, and not just give him another paltry broken nose like the one I had given him at the start of term. I hadn't expected to feel pain when his spell hit me, so much pain. But as I lay there, the cold water from the smashed plumbing soaking into my clothes, I thought maybe this was a good thing. My death would end the living nightmare my life had become. My brain had slowly shut down and I had been ready to embrace what would come next. I regretted not being able to tell my mother that I loved her, and may be that she was right, and that I was just a child.

I hadn't been expecting to wake up with the bossy tones of Madame Pomphrey shooing people away from my bed side. Lying on those crisp white sheets I became convinced that I had been given a second chance at life to complete my task. I doubled my efforts. And they had finally paid off tonight. But when I heard my Aunt and the others rattling in the cabinet I had hid. I had squeezed myself between a chest of drawers and a pile of filthy sheets. I heard their confused tones, as they tried to figure out where I had got to. I don't think I even breathed for those everlasting minutes. When I heard them leave the room I just ran as fast as I could. I wanted out of there. I could hear chaos breaking out behind my retreating footsteps and I had wanted none of it. I was a failure. And the Dark Lord would kill me.

And now for the first time in a long while, with Granger standing in front of me, I finally spoke the truth that had been in me all this time.

"I am scared."

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

_Thanks for reading. Sorry about the wait. __Cedari x_


	5. Wanting

**SOMEONE TO RUN WITH **

_Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to betransformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work_

**Chapter 5****: WANTING**

It's a bizarre feeling getting what you want, while at the same time never thinking you would. It's like when you hope to win something, you plan and plan what you're going to say down to the very last word, but when you actually do, you're completely dumbfounded, because your brain can do fantasy but not reality. That's exactly what it feels like. I've reduced Draco Malfoy to bare faced honesty and the sight of it smacks me in the face and leaves me speechless.

I can tell that he can't bring himself to look at me; his eyes are fixed on his dirty boots. His whole body is taut, like a live wire, ready to lash out at any moment. And I start to do what is only natural to me. I want to touch him, hug him. I've always been someone who needs the emotional assurance that a pair of warm arms can give. And it's this instinct that wins over the rational thought that Malfoy is probably going to throw me off him. I begin to approach him cautiously, concentrating on a pronounced spot of dirt staining the white skin of his throat so I wouldn't make accidental eye contact. My fingers outstretched, make contact first. I can feel the rough fabric of his robe against my fingertips; gradually my right palm lies against his chest. It might be my imagination but I can swear I can feel his heart beat against my hand. And I feel my heart tuning in to his through our connection.

Thump. Thump. They drum a steady rhythm together.

I move closer towards him. I can smell his sweat, the mud and the soap he must have used this morning. He starts to lean himself into me and I can feel his body heat melding with mine. I realise I wanted this more than I had thought, as I allow it to envelope me. I know I don't love him, not yet anyway. But I just know there is something about the boy I have in my arms that I have to have. I don't know what. But I want the chance to discover what it is.

"It will be okay." I whisper to him as my fingers stroke through the fine strands of his hair. I feel the change in him immediately. His body goes rigid under my touch, and I am not prepared for the force he applies on my shoulders when he pushes me away. I am barely able to keep my footing, my hands flailing to keep my balance. I look up at him, about to ask him what was wrong, but when I see the raw anger emaciating from him I am quelled into silence.

"What the fuck do you know Granger? The Dark Lord is going to kill me." He spits the words out at me, in abrupt forceful tones.

"We can help."

"Who? Dumbledore?" His raised his arms to sky, punctuating his questions.

Why was he saying it like that? Who else did he think had the power to save him from Voldemort? Dumbledore was his equal and his opposite in every way.

"Yes, Dumbledore."

"Open your eyes Mudblood your precious Dumbledore will be dead by the end of tonight."

As if by providence the sky above us was lit by a burning green skull with a protruding serpent tongue. And I think it was at that point that I truly did open my eyes and saw the world for what it really was. Death Eaters had entered Hogwarts and war had come.

"How, how do you know?"

"Who do you think let them in? I have been planning this all year Granger. It was my mission, my command."

"But you're just a child."

"I haven't been a child for a while Granger." He sneers at me as he pulls back his left sleeve.

I scream. I was wronged. Not by him, but by myself. I had betrayed myself when it had mattered the most. For months I had been dressing him up in sheep's clothing, and had been gamely playing his fool. Changing him into something he clearly didn't want to be. Harry had been right all along, and I had berated him for being ridiculous. If I had only listened then this may all have been prevented. I wouldn't be wasting my time listening to a stupid boy gloating about how his pet project worked. He didn't even seem to realise what he had just done. He was the catalyst that would bring the entire wizarding world to its knees. Lives, countless lives would be lost because of his actions, and yet here he was gloating.

I scream.

I scream as loud as I can and I see his eyes widen in shock as I run at him, push him to the ground and start tearing at his skin, his hair, anything I can get a hold off. I grip. I scratch. I pull. I bite. I can feel him struggling beneath me, trying to use his longer limbs and greater strength to tether me down. But I am too much for him; my fury has me in charge, not him. And it reduces him to the snivelling child I know him to be.

"I had to Granger. I had to." He keeps repeating those same words over and over again as I continue to pummel his flesh.

"I had no choice."

The profanity of what he just said makes me stop. He was pathetic.

"You always have a choice." He didn't even flinch as my spit showered his face.

"I was forced to do it, I had no choice. He would have killed my parents. He would have killed me."

I can't stay here, with him. I rise off him, feeling drained and shattered to the bones. But I have to get back. I have to help the people I have so easily deserted.

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think Malfoy?"

"But what am I going to do?" He whines.

"Why the hell do I care?"

"He is going to kill me. I was meant to kill Dumbledore tonight. I failed. I ran away."

And there it was the one quirk in this entire mess that didn't quite add up.

I stop. "Why did you run away?"

~o~~o~o~o~o~o~o


	6. Needing

**SOMEONE TO RUN WITH **

_Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 6****: NEEDING (Draco)**

My mind is reeling. Why did I run away?

Because I was a coward, my father would have said this without hesitation. I can imagine quite easily his stare and his face etched with disappointment. To have such a son was a disgrace.

Tonight was meant to be my moment of glory, but instead I had let all that fear that lay within me take hold.

"Why did you run away?" She asks me again.

Because I am a coward.

"You are not a coward. You're just... You're just..." She is struggling for the right words. Her bottom lip gets tucked under her white teeth as she is thinking of what to say. She crouches down next to me and her leg comes to rest against mine. I stare at the point of contact; too much of a wimp to look where I ought to, into her eyes. She seems to sense this and the next thing I know she has got her palm on my cheek, gently pulling my gaze to her.

"You are not a coward. You are just human."

She continues.

"We make mistakes. But we can correct them. Come with me." The words 'Be with me' were unspoken but were clearly implied by the slow caress of her fingers against my face. It would be so easy to say yes but the reality of the situation is a brick wall I am not strong enough to climb. No one would accept me after what I had done. I would be thrown straight into Askaban the moment my foot stepped into Order territory. She forgets that not everyone has the capacity to forgive like her.

"I can't do that. They will find me and kill me."

"Then you should have just stayed."

I close my eyes.

"Come with me Granger."

She held my hands in hers.

"Why?"

"I need you."

"Why?"

I can't tell her the truth... because I didn't know what it is. It is a mixture of different things that is compounding the stirring feeling of madness within me. At the centre of it all was the kiss. It was her kiss that was driving it. I didn't want to tell her I thought about it all the time, and that when I did it made everything inside me still. My blood would lay unmoving in my veins and all my thoughts and fears would lie static in my head. It was during those times I could breathe without feeling I had someone's hands trying to choke me, suffocate me.

But I can't tell her the truth because I don't believe it myself.

I try to mask it in my thoughts by adding layers of half truths and reason. Why would I ask her to come with? She's clever, she could help figure out a way to hide until the war is over. If The Dark Lord loses I can use her as a bartering chip to avoid Askaban. If he wins I can use her to get back into his favour. I can say any one of these, but I know they won't stand a chance in hell of making her come with me.

The only thing in the world that might is the one thing I can't bear to say out loud.

I want to see if every kiss I have with you would be the same as the first.

She takes my silence as my inability to think of a worthy response. She assumes that I have no reason other than that I am scared and don't want to be alone.

In a way she is right. And I can only listen as she starts to speak to me.

"I can't save you Malfoy. I am not some guardian angel that can pick up the pieces of your life and sew it back up in some pretty pattern. I haven't got the power or the ability within me to redeem you. Right or wrong, you did what you did Malfoy, and you have to live with it." She moves away from me. It will probably be the last time I see her and the urge to kiss her again is painful. But I can't bring myself to do it. She doesn't even say good bye as she goes.

I watch her retreating back as she leaves me alone. It makes me realise the precise situation I have put myself in. My body is sore from the fight with Granger, and I can taste the metallic in the blood on my lips. I am distinctly aware of the darkness around me and the cold, night air that chills me through and through. The cries from the castle pierce my ear drums, I cover them with my hands and I rock from front to back, trying to figure out what to do.

o~o~o~o~o~o


	7. Knowing

**SOMEONE TO RUN WITH **

_Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work of fiction is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work._

**Chapter 7****: KNOWING (Hermione)**

**10 years later**

I wave goodbye as the kids board the train. My heart lifts at the sight of their happy smiles and shining eyes. They are a constant reminder of the good that came out of the war, and I am so grateful for it. I place a protective hand on the base of my stomach. Ron doesn't know yet. I want to name it Fred if it is a boy. I feel a pair of eyes on me. I glance up and see silver.

Malfoy.

With his kids being about the same age as mine, I suppose it shouldn't have been surprising to see him here. But I feel my breath seize up when I catch his eyes. I had never told Ron or anyone in fact, about that night in the Forbidden Forest, or the kiss that had occurred previously. It was neither here nor there I told myself, things had worked out the way they should. His gaze flicks to my hand and then back up to me before turning away. My breath has yet to be released from the prison of my throat.

"Mione, Sweetheart." I feel Ron's arm heavy round my shoulders and I exhale sharply.

"Can you check the parking? I'm not sure on the time limit but I need to talk to Gin for a sec."

I am grateful for the opportunity to get out of the clawing atmosphere of the platform.

"No problem."

I give Harry and Ginny a quick wave before heading through the throng of people rushing through Kings Cross Station. It has changed since I was at school. There is shiny glass at every turn, and the smell of wine and coffee makes for a heady concoction. I'm glad when I pass through the exit doors into the fresh autumnal day. I walk towards the car. Two hours no return. I check my watch. Thirty minutes left to go. Should I go back or wait here? I can't decide.

"Granger."

Malfoy makes the decision for me.

"Malfoy." I eye his receding hair line and it makes me grateful for Ron's thatch of red hair. Malfoy looked old and I was going to enjoy telling him so.

"You look old Malfoy."

"Well you look fat Granger."

Bastard.

"It is called being pregnant."

He shrugs his shoulders. He doesn't care. And you know what neither do I. He can't hurt me like he did at school. He is not better than me. His blood is of no more consequence than that piece of dog shit festering on the ground in front of us. I turn and shrug my shoulders back at him. I make to get into the car.

"Would you ever have come with me that night?"

"What?" My brain freezes. I stay with my back facing him, not daring to turn around.

"I said; would you have come with me that night?" He had purposely spoken louder and with sharper enunciation.

"I heard what you said."

But why the hell are you saying it was my main question.

"Well."

"No. You were a Death Eater remember. You brought the war to us Malfoy."

"I had no choice."

It always came down to this with Malfoy. Choice to my mind was defined as choosing one from a number of things. In that respect Malfoy had had choices. They were hard, I couldn't deny Malfoy that. But he "chose" what to do, he had thought about it and he had rationalised it, and then he decided and acted.

"You had choices Malfoy."

"No Granger I didn't. I had option A and Option B, both of them led to destination C, my death. And you know me well enough to know that self preservation is my main concern."

"You don't know that you would have died if you had come with me, Malfoy."

"Swings and roundabouts, Granger. We can go round in circles with this argument but neither will be able to prove the other as wrong."

"So what, you took the secret back door?"

"In a sense, so, would you ever have come with me?"

"Depends, you never gave me a reason."

"Temporary insanity."

"You were never insane Malfoy."

"No, I think I was back then."

I turn to look at his face, it is shut down, a mask of indifference, but his eyes are so hard I don't argue the point. But I can't let him win that way. We were all insane during the war. We all lost a part of ourselves during that year that we can never get back. Ron, Harry, me, we changed as people, better or worse? I can't say but different none the less. He wants to talk about this, let him talk. He wants to drudge this all up, and dissect it till all the pieces lay scattered on the ground. Fine, but I need more, I need the truth.

"I don't count that as a reason."

"Fine, have it your way."

That's it I think, he is going to leave but then he speaks.

"You were the only one that seemed to care for me Granger. Everyone else was after something. You had no reason to care and yet you did. I was scared and I thought I had needed someone to be with me, someone to keep me sane. I remember you saying you weren't a guardian angel, but you must have some sort of 'power' in you because it clicked something within me. I used to think about that kiss when I was hiding, and it brought me peace. You know, when it first happened I had wanted to pour alcohol down my mouth and set it alight just to get the taste of you from my mouth. You taste like apple, do you know that? It had helped me go to sleep. It still does in fact."

I feel his hot breath on my skin as he leans closer. His lips are nearly touching the shell of my ear. I feel cold shivers running up and down my back, exciting all my nerve endings. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing to attention to his voice. Everything around us blurs. I concentrate on the feel of him next to me, closing my eyes.

"And I thank you for that."

His last words make my chest tighten in a way I had thought unimaginable. My heart is constricting and throbbing in my rib cage. It is beating so hard, and so fast that it physically aches. He moves away from me. It is to his back that I reply. The response that comes from me is automatic; I didn't even think about it, it just comes out. It was a secret that I no longer had to keep and I was thankful for its release.

"Yes Malfoy I would have."

He stops. I fear he is going to turn to face me and a scarlet blush flushes my cheeks in embarrassment. My skin burns. What is he going to say? What am I going to say? The questions zip through my frantic mind. I can feel myself starting to panic.

In the end he doesn't, there's a pause and a sharp huff of air, and then he continues to walk away from me.

I know you're going to think I'm crazy when I say this, but I could have sworn I heard him smile.

And it makes me smile in return.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o THE END ~o~o~o~o~o~o~o


End file.
